


the focus

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Avengers Vol. 8 (2018), Coma, Flashbacks, Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Memory Loss, Past Rape/Non-con, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 05:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19823662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: It's a new day in this post-Hydra world and that means a new Avengers team. Or it would, if Tony could just look Steve in the eye.





	the focus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ironlawyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/gifts).



> Happy birthday Ironlawyer! (even if it is three weeks late.)
> 
> This is set during the current Avengers run, but all you have to know is that Tony is back from his coma. Think of this fic as the dark flipside of "I can't say no to Cap when he begs."

“Tony, you know it would mean the world to me to have you on the team,” Steve pleads, looking as if he’s seconds away from dropping to his knees. 

“I’m flattered, I really am.” Tony doesn’t feel flattered. He’s looking at a spot on the ceiling, trying to focus on whether that crack he sees is a sign Avenger’s Mountain has structural deficiencies, and successfully avoids Steve’s eyes. “And a part of me wishes I could fight by your side again.” His eyes move to the floor, and then the walls, momentarily darting to look at Steve’s face. “I’m sorry.”

“But you fought with us--”

Tony cuts him off. “Because I had to. There wasn’t another choice.”

Steve grimaces. “When you say ‘I wish I could fight by your side again,’ did you mean with the Avengers, or with me?”

Is there an answer to that Steve will accept? All of Steve’s insistence is crawling on his skin and it feels like fingers wrapped around his arms, holding him down on the floor of the helicarrier. Tony would do anything to make it stop. “You’re right,” Tony says, avoiding the question, because the answer is he’s going to hyperventilate if he has to listen to Steve ask something of him for a few more minutes. Of course it’s Steve’s face he can’t look at, it was Steve’s face that loomed over him, it was Steve’s fast that forcibly tilted his chin just so he could place brunt kiss to Tony’s lips. “Just let me think about it, ok? It’s a big decision. I’d like some time to think it through.”

“Yes, of course,” Steve says, probably not wanting to seem unreasonable. His counterpart, the one that took over the United States in the name of Hydra, never wanted to seem unreasonable, either. “Thank you for thinking about it, and let me know if there’s anything I can do to change your mind.” He reaches out his hand and just about makes it to Tony’s shoulder before Tony reflexively pivots away. His heart is beating out of his chest.

“Will do, Cap.” Tony tries to sound light-hearted but mostly his voice travels an octave higher than where it’s supposed to. “Gotta go, Stark Unlimited doesn’t run itself.”

Tony’s turned around and almost out the door when he hears Steve behind him call, “Talk to you later!”

* * *

Tony built the new body he inhabits; it’s his and his alone. When Hydra fell, his comatose body could no longer be manipulated and awakened for the whims on the Supreme Leader. He was left with nothing but a bruised and broken outer shell and a mind too scarred to return.

So, he did what he does best. Tony Stark built something. He tried to fix it. His new body has none of the scars, none of the bruises, none of the memory sensations of his old one. It’s clean of everything the Supreme Leader did to him.

And it doesn’t matter. 

Tony waits until he’s back in New York to strip off his clothes, sit under the scalding water of his shower, and cry until his head feels like it’s breaking in half.

* * *

Stark Unlimited takes up most of his time after that, and only kind of on purpose. Tony’s become the master of building and rebuilding his companies into bigger and better and more brilliant things, and Stark Unlimited is going to be his masterpiece.

It’s good to care about this work again. For so long his world was the pod and the horror show with Steve’s face. For so long his thoughts were dominated by _stop it, stop him_ , then just _pretend this isn’t happening,_ so nowdoing and creating makes him feel more like a person than having an actual physical body to go with his consciousness. 

It’s how he’s able to put off answering Steve for so long.

At least, until the spell breaks. “Steve Rogers is here to see you,” FRIDAY announces, walking in and lighting up the room with a calming pink glow. 

Tony glares at the hologram in front of him. Good ol’ persistent Steve. “Where is he?” Tony asks and closes up what he’s working on. He takes a couple of deep breaths and reminds himself that this is _Steve_ and not the Supreme Leader. He’s the best person Tony knows. They aren’t the same.

Steve’s strides in before FRIDAY has a chance to answer. “Just outside the door.”

“Thought I’d stop by and check in on an old friend,” Steve says, hands in his pockets and taking up space like he owns Tony’s workshop. Tony’s throat closes up. _It’s not him_ , he repeats, a mantra that’s impossible to internalize. _It’s not him. It’s not._

Same blue eyes, same square jaw, same look of determination on his face. This Steve was going to get what he wants. The only difference is that this Steve wants Tony to help him save the world, and that Steve wanted…

He really, really tries, but Tony can’t suppress the shudder that runs through him.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” he asks with a smile tight across his face and one hand gripping the back of the chair he was sitting on. 

Steve leans against one of the tables and the spot where his hip is pressed against the edge feels like a physical affront to Tony. “I know you’ve been busy,” Steve explains, easy and familiar. He’s looking around, taking in all the details of the workshop, leading Tony to follow his eyes and watch as Steve dissects-- _no, he’s just looking_ \--Tony’s space. “But I’d like to talk more about the Avengers.”

“Could we--uh--go somewhere else? To talk? Please?” Tony’s voice is higher than normal. There’s no confidence in the question. In the end they’ll do whatever Steve wants them to do--

 _No, they won’t. Because it’s not him_. If Tony says it enough, it might stick. 

Steve’s head tilts to the side but his eyes don’t narrow; he’s confused, not suspicious. “Of course,” he says, but he waits for Tony to lead them out, and for a few seconds Tony’s rooted in the spot, both surprised that Steve’s willing to listen to him, and then surprised he’s surprised. It’s Steve.

Yet...as Tony closes the door on the workshop and turns his back on Steve so he can walk a conference room down the hall, he has to fight the impulse to break into a run. 

“So, the Avengers...” Tony prompts while he takes a seat. He doesn’t want to delay this anymore. 

Steve nods and crosses his arms. “Yes, the Avengers. Now I know you’re on the fence about this, and I respect that, so I wanted to give you a chance to tell me what I could do to change your mind.”

 _If you weren’t on the team, then maybe_ , Tony thinks, but that’s probably not even enough to change his mind. The Avengers, as a concept, are so intertwined with Steve that the logo itself reminds him of Steve’s knees pushing Tony’s thighs apart while Tony tries to struggle against the hands tight around his wrists. “I don’t think there’s anything. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Steve’s voice breaks as he says it; he must want this so bad. After everything he’s been through, after what had to be a massive blow to his self-image, the idea of something as immutable as Avenging must be very appealing. “Please? I’ll beg if I need to.” Steve chuckles nervously.

Tony takes a couple of deep breaths. Steve needs this, and Tony wants Steve to feel better. What happened to Tony during the reign of Hydra isn’t Steve’s fault. He can do this; he can be here for Steve, and then the questions will stop. “I’ll do it, but--”

Steve scoots a little closer. “Anything.”

“I can’t live in Avengers Mountain.” As soon as he says it, he knows he should have just said no to everything. Not being in the mountain is an imperfect boundary and one that won’t alleviate the problem. “The work I’m doing with Stark Unlimited is just too important to me,” he half-lies to explain and hopes it’s enough.

It must be, because Steve nods in acceptance and looks a little sad to hear it. “That’s ok, I understand.”

He doesn’t, Tony can see, but he must feel it’s time to back down. There’ll be comments later, things Steve and the others will say that Tony will have to reject, over, and over, and Tony doesn’t want to do any of this. “Good.” Tony swallows. He’ll acquiesce to Steve eventually. That very thought hurts--he’s too weak, he’s too scared. “Is there anything else you needed?”

Steve frowns, put off by Tony’s curt question, but then his shoulder square. Tony can see another question behind his eyes and now he’s wishing he had made an excuse to leave. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner with me.”

Tony freezes, he’d been expecting any question beside that one. His mouth opens, closes, opens again, and words never come out.

“Being stuck in an eternal dreamscape really makes you think about your priorities, and…” Steve continues to say when Tony remains quiet. “I really miss you. And I missed you before, when we were fighting, and it’s time, I guess, to say that out loud.”

Tears prickle at the corners of Tony’s eyes. His heart seizes in his chest. _I missed you,_ the Supreme Leader whispers into his ear and he’s back in that place, looking up at Steve’s blue eyes looming above him and being surprised to find his smile malicious and twisted. _I missed you so much I found a way to wake you up._

Tony can’t say it back, it’s not true. But Steve looks so hopeful and scared. He’s putting himself out there for this, and Tony can’t leave him hanging. 

None of this is Steve fault, Tony repeats. Over and over again.

“Ok,” Tony says, and the word breaks in his throat.

* * *

Steve leaves blissfully quick after Tony acquiesce, too happy from Tony’s answer to really question Tony’s flimsy excuse about a non-existent board meeting. 

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks when he slips back into the workshop and sees her standing where he left her. His eyes keep finding the table Steve had been leaning against; he has an irrational thought that he should clean the spot with bleach. 

“Yes?”

 _Don’t do this_ , he tells himself. _Don’t let it control you_. For a long minute, he really tries to make himself believe this space is just as sacred as it was an hour ago. 

He doesn’t succeed

“We’re moving the workshop. Initiate a complete tear down and move the essentials to current axillary room 28.”

* * *

Steve’s choice of restaurant doesn’t track for what Tony would think Steve would do. There are white table cloths and multiple forks and a wine list with bottles that cost more than one hundred dollars that Steve discreetly attempts to hide. 

“This is weird? Right? This feels weird?” Steve asks, noticing how out of character this is. He rearranges the silverware and adjusts the napkin on his lap and takes another tiny sip of water. “I guess I wanted to impress you and someone once told me about this place but now that I’m sitting across from you I’m realizing that this was an odd decision, you’re Tony Stark, this restaurant means nothing to you, so I’m sorry, this is stup--”

“Steve?” Tony interrupts. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s fine.” 

Steve frowns. Tony had hoped that ‘fine’ sounded less like he was blowing Steve off, but clearly it doesn’t. “Should’ve just gone to that pizza place down by the mansion, the one where--”

“It’s closed,” Tony says, breaking Steve off before they dive too far into nostalgia. “Really, this is good. I’m sure it’s delicious.” Tony plasters on his best easy smile. “Company’s not half bad either.”

The show of charm does nothing for Steve’s frown, which holds up strong against Tony’s attempt at lightening the mood. “You don’t have to lie for me.”

“I’m not,” Tony lies.

Steve crosses his arms and it appears like it grows six inches taller. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself, and I’m beginning to think it’s personal.”

Tony gulps, clutches onto the fabric of his dress pants, and keeps his eyes focused on something just past Steve’s head. “I don’t know why you’d think that…”

“Every time I see you--I can’t put my finger on it, exactly--but it’s like you’re not happy to see me.” Steve squints, as if he can physically see past Tony’s bullshit. “Except, it’s not even that. It’s like you can’t look at me, at all. Did I do something?”

The air goes out of the room. Tony could have sworn that the restaurant was playing some sort of jazzy number in the background, but he can’t hear it anymore after the sound of his own heartbeat. “No,” he squeaks. 

“Then why have you been avoiding me? Why can’t we talk right now?” Steve takes a deep breath, clearly aware that his voice is rising. “Ever since that Nazi bastard took--”

Tony cuts him off, his words falling out of his mouth to quick to be legible. “You didn’t do anything.” He tries, tries, _tries_ , not to put any emphasis on the ‘you’. It comes across despite that.

Steve’s eyes go so wide, it’d be hilarious in another circumstance. “Oh.”

A brutal silence follows. Tony fights with the impulse to deny whatever Steve’s thinking before he even says it, because anything he says in acknowledgement would just be confirmation. 

“But...I thought…the coma...” Now it’s Steve that can’t look at Tony, Tony who can’t look away. “I thought you were the only one he didn’t hurt.”

And there it is. 

Maybe Steve really does care about Tony in the way he seems to right now; Tony not sure he’ll ever be able to know the answer, because Steve doesn’t just need Tony, he needs Tony to see him the way he was before he was the Supreme Leader. He needs him to be the one person who doesn’t remember Hydra’s reign. He _needs_ Tony to remember the real him.

 _Sometimes, I think you’re the only one who knows the real me,_ the Supreme Leader says in the back of Tony’s mind. 

Tony shakes off the phantom sensation of the Supreme Leader’s voice against his ear. “I have to go.” He stands up so fast the table shakes and water sloshes over their cups. If Steve looked scared and confused before, it was nothing compared to how quickly he gets on his feet and follows Tony. 

“Tony!” he calls out. 

_Tony!_

_Why do you always have to fight me?_

There are people watching them, so many people, and not a single one is going to stop him. Tony wants to run, hide, even fight. Anything to get away from him before he has a chance to overpower him. And he will. He always does. 

Tony makes it out the door and across the street until a firm hand wraps around his wrist. He tries to shake it off without looking back, but he can’t, of course he can’t, the Supreme Leader is too strong, and he’s weak, he nothing, _nothing_ , nothing compared to him. 

“Please, please,” Tony babbles with his eyes shut tight. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He’ll stay still, like the Supreme Leader always wants, if it would just be over with.

The hand around his wrist drops like Tony’s skin burns. “Oh god, no…” gasps the Supreme Leader, no… Steve. It’s Steve in front of him, a presence powerful and menacing.

Tony takes a step back before he opens his eyes, and then another after that. 

“No, no, no…” Steve mutters under his breath, his body trembling, his eyes darting across the crowd of onlookers. 

Tony runs.

* * *

The syringe rests on the new workshop desk, right next to Tony’s phone and his Avengers ID. It’s filled with nanobots especially made to eliminate any memories Tony has had since the battle with Carol and his coma.

In a different circumstance, Tony would want more time to perfect the little buggers he’s about to inject into himself. But this is I-don’t-have-another-choice sort of work, the type of desperate last-ditch effort Tony is too comfortable with. He doesn’t care about the consequences; he just wants to fix it.

"Let's not make this a habit," he says to himself. He wants to laugh, this should be hilarious, and he hopes someone else, at least, finds it funny when they discover him.

One last time, he checks that his Avengers communicator is properly calibrated to the suit. The nanobots glisten through the glass syringe, constantly catching his vision, and he knows he won't understand this when he wakes up. He didn't last time 

He has five minutes until he can regret this.

With a deep breath he injects the nanobots before throwing the syringe in the workshop’s incinerator and calling for the suit. It envelops him, every piece clicks into place with finality.

"Blank slate protocol," he tells the suit. "Autopilot activated. Drop me off somewhere nice."

He flies across the city skyline, the morning rush nothing but ants below his feet.

His mind shuts down slowly, as if a power outage is slowly spreading across his brain, cell by cell, block by block, and when it’s all gone, he’ll be able to forget everything.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] the focus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334644) by [The_Casual_Sounds (the_casual_cheesecake)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_casual_cheesecake/pseuds/The_Casual_Sounds)




End file.
